The Longing of the Kite
Tossing among white squalls raised by cool morning gales
And surf lips pursed by the breath of blistering afternoon furies
A weary one-eyed kite — curious cyclops —
Pauses its flight to fish its soul out of heavenly waters
Avian physique lifting its burden to give it stoke and joy.
Sighing with the wind, the kite drops its burden in the surf
Darts a long eye at the sylphic blaze on the horizon
Where his unknown lady lives and dances on treetops
Beckoning him into her amber-veined embrace.
Her mother, the queen of the night, is giving a ball
On the occasion of her daughter’s presentation to the stars,
Friendless torches lit and gilded for themselves alone
In the pitch black night of their frightful nightmares.
Lest she shine for herself alone and split her mirror
To make company in her gilded solitary dance tower
The lady clicks with hands and heels gently rapping
An invitation to her ball for the kite and his burden.
The kite’s eye grows fierce with longing for the lady
Sparks fires in the wave and hurls them at the setting sun
To torch the watery expanse between him and her eyes
Deepening the blue of sea and sky to reinvent her kingdom.
Flapping his kite wings against the sand in the weak rays of the setting sun
The one-eyed shepherd shuts a heavy lid to hear the troubadour – his burden-
Sing the fires of day and night into the stall curtained by his eyelid
— Strange camera of molten gold containing worlds of magic —
Charging the cool midnight air with the fireworks of his quenchless love.